


The Pocket Watch

by GoodOldBaz



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Childhood, Gen, Holmes Brothers, Holmes Brothers' Childhood, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Victorian Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 00:32:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18187535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodOldBaz/pseuds/GoodOldBaz
Summary: Holmes has some other coping mechanisms that, thankfully, aren't drugs.





	The Pocket Watch

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of canon Holmes, kind of Brett Holmes, I'm not sure. Pick what you prefer.

7-year-old Sherlock Holmes stared with big, eager gray eyes at the golden pocket-watch which he held tightly in his thin little fingers.  
“I love it,” he exclaimed, swinging his bare feet and lankly legs excitedly. “Very much!”  
He slipped down off of his high bench and threw his arms around his brother’s neck. Mycroft pulled himself from his brother’s grasp and playfully rubbed his chubby hand over Sherlock’s thick black hair.  
“Silly little boy,” he smiled. “It was dad’s, you know, so you’d better take good care of it.”  
Little Sherlock looked down at the watch. “It’s inscribed with an SH,” he said, looking up at his brother with a little confusion. “What was dad’s name?”  
“Sherlock, little man, just like you.”  
Sherlock clutched the watch to his heart. “You’re lucky you remember dad. I wish I did.”  
Mycroft kicked at the bit of ribbon and paper that had fallen from his little brother’s lap. “Yeah...” he said a little sadly. “I liked him... everybody did.”  
Sherlock lowered his head. “Nobody likes me.”  
“Sure they like you, Sherlock.”  
“No they don’t. They act like they do, but I’ve heard them talk about me when they don’t think I can hear them.” He paused, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “It makes me sad, Mycroft, when I hear them say those mean things.”  
Mycroft swallowed, and reached out and closed his brother’s hand over the big golden pocket watch. “How about this, Sherlock. Whenever you hear people say mean things about you, you lift up dad’s pocket watch to your ear, you listen to that, and you think how much dad likes you, and I like you, and mum likes you, and you forget about the others. Alright?”  
Sherlock nodded and smiled, holding his watch up to his ear. “Alright.”  
\---------------  
Sherlock Holmes’ long strides took him down the hall at top speed. As he came to the doorway he heard the sound of voices, and, just before he went round a corner, stopped dead in his tracks, listening closely.  
“That private detective, Holmes is his name, he seems to have this thing all worked out, doesn’t he?” said one voice.  
“Bah!” exclaimed another. “He’s nothing but an egotistical showoff, Scotland Yard’s jack-in-office is all he is – plays tricks and pretends they’re miracles. He thinks he’s all the world, but he’s just a bigheaded sod. I think...”  
42-year-old Sherlock Holmes reached his hand into his pocket and lifted his old pocket watch to his ear. Above the sound of the men talking in the other room he could hear it’s sharp ticking, and, with a smile, he murmured,  
“Alright.”


End file.
